Simply a Dream
by immywrites
Summary: Jason is plague with nightmares of a vicious attack, ordered by Pasiphae and carried out by her guards. Pythagoras does his best to help.


Pythagoras' hand hovered nervously over the cut on Jason's hip.

'May I?' Jason gave a nod of consent, and Pythagoras gently lifted his shirt, revealing the deep scar. It was more serious than he'd first thought. Running from his bellybutton to some place below the waistband of his trousers, the gas was bleeding profusely, and appeared to be a few inches deep.

'It looks bad,' Pythagoras looked up to Jason's concerned face. The man had visibly paled; he'd never been good at dealing with blood. His father had called it a phobia. The concern turned to fear at Pythagoras' words.

'No, no I don't mean- it's not _that _bad, just a little deep.' Pythagoras gave the man a reassuring smile and turned back to Jason's injury. His hand brushed against Jason's skin and the man groaned in pain. He leaned his head back and covered his eyes with his arm as Pythagoras cleaned the blood from around the gash. Pythagoras tried to work quickly, but the evident pain that Jason was feeling made him cautious and more careful that he would usually have been. His hand slid lower on Jason's hip, and he ran the wet cloth under the waistband of Jason's trousers, making the man wince and write in pain. Groggily, Jason tried to sit up but his head felt heavy and a sudden dizziness took over him. Pythagoras placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Jason, what's wrong? What did I do?' He couldn't help the fear that ran through him. It pierced his heart and he gripped Jason's shoulder gently, trying to stop him from moving and making the injury bleed more. The look on Jason's face was one of pure agony. 'Jason? I'm sorry...'

Jason lifted his hand and took hold of Pythagoras' wrist. He gave a slight shake of his head.

'Don't.' Jason opened his eyes and looked at Pythagoras. 'It's... hurts, that's all.'

Pythagoras nodded, but the fear remained. His eyes moved back to Jason's exposed wound. It was still bleeding heavily, and Pythagoras knew that he had to get Jason to a healer soon or he might die from blood loss or infection. With one hand still gripping Jason' shoulder, he slid Jason's trousers down over his hip. Deep purple bruising covered loads of small, healing cuts. It looked as if he'd been caught in a snare. Pythagoras looked back up at Jason, but the man had turned his head away from him. A silent tear rolled down his dust covered cheek, and Pythagoras shuffled closer to him. His friends seemed to disappear into his own mind.

'Jason? Jason what's wrong?

_Hands, so many hands tearing at his clothes and at his skin and pulling his hair. He lay curled into a ball on the cold hard ground of the jail cell, with no help in sight. In the corner, Pasiphae grinned wickedly, Heptarian stood gallantly by her side. Jason winced as a foot connected to his chin. Pain was all he felt. The fear had faded long ago..._

Pythagoras lifted a hand to Jason's cheek and gently turned his head towards him. He wiped away fresh tears with his thumb and willed Jason to look at him, to tell him what was wrong.

'Jason?' The man snapped out of his confusion and his eyes focused on Pythagoras'. A sudden calmness fell over his face, and he pushed Pythagoras' hand away from him.

'I'm fine.'

'Please don't lie to me.' Pythagoras felt a pang of upset when Jason pushed him away, he wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug and tell him everything was alright but Jason seemed reluctant to be touched in any way, and Pythagoras knew a hug would only worsen his pain. So instead he sat back, his hands resting on the cold mud only inches from Jason's. 'I can see that something's wrong, Jason, I just... please, I just want to help.'

Fury flashed through Jason as he recalled the night he was attacked; he was taken from his bed in the night by Pasiphae's guards and dragged to the jail cells with handcuffs around his wrists. As they'd dragged him from the house, he'd called out for Pythagoras, asking for help but none came. Pythagoras slept soundly in his bed as Jason was beaten and abused by Pasiphae for a reason that Jason was never told. He clenched his fists into the mud and tried to calm himself.

'No you don't.' His voice was cold and steady, but even Jason could hear the small hint of childishness that it also held. Pythagoras looked at Jason with a mix of fear and confusion in his light blue eyes.

'Wha- of course I do. Jason, I d-'

'Stop talking.' Jason turned his head away from Pythagoras again. Memories of that night still haunted his dreams and he was struggling to make it through the night without waking, covered in sweat and afraid that they'd come back for him. He'd lost his appetite, as well, choosing to shut himself away in his room until he was sure everyone was in bed before he'd even consider eating. Once he'd been set free of the prison, Jason had stumbled home with tears in his eyes and his body covered in bruises. He'd avoided question as the guards had focused their attack on his ribcage and stomach and thighs more than his face. Most of the bruising had faded after a day of two, but his hip still caused him pain; he was sure it was fractured, but he'd been too afraid to as Pythagoras to take a look at it, and he knew of no healers.

As he thought of his injured hip, the pain flared up again. He tried to hold in a small cry of agony, but he could not help it. He felt as if his entire leg had been set alight. Jason tried to get himself to his feet, to get away from Pythagoras so he could cry in peace, but he could barely move. His leg was cramping and the gash on his stomach had begun bleeding again, much worse than before. Pythagoras pulled a fresh bandage from his pouch and held it firmly against the cut in an attempt to slow down the bleeding. He kept his eyes fixed on his hands and not on Jason's face or the cuts and bruising that covered his hip. For the first time in a long time, Pythagoras was at a loss of what to do. He didn't know whether to remain in the clearing until dawn or if he should carry Jason out of the woods and to the nearest medic. He doubted he'd be strong enough to lift the man into his arms, but he could try. He could do anything to save Jason.

The woods had fallen silent. No birds chirped, no wolves howled. The only thing Pythagoras could hear was the sound of Jason's laboured breathing and the crackling of the small fire he'd barely managed to build. Jason had passed out from the pain which made the process of cleaning and re-bandaging his wound a lot easier for Pythagoras, though his trembling hands were still a challenge.

_No you don't..._

Jason's words repeated in his mind, over and over again until Pythagoras could barely remember their meaning. He didn't know what Jason had meant, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Did Jason not believe that he wanted to help? Pythagoras had given him no reason to think so; at least he didn't think that he had. He went through the previous week in his mind, searching for any small hint that he'd angered or upset Jason, but he found none. Jason's anger had appeared so suddenly and Pythagoras had done nothing to provoke it. At least he didn't think he had.

Pythagoras watched Jason sleep from the other side of the fire. His entire life he'd had an urge to help people, to ensure that nobody he cared about was hurt or upset in any way. With Jason that urge had been stronger. He'd felt it from the moment he'd first seen the man, hanging dangerously above the street. If Pythagoras had leaned out of that window a second too late, Jason would have surely fallen to his death that day. The thought of Jason not being in his life was like hell to Pythagoras. He couldn't imagine going a single day without seeing his face or smelling the sweet smell of spices and flowers that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

Jason stirred, and Pythagoras went to stand up but something stopped him. A whisper escaped Jason's lips, and that whisper was his name. His name, uttered with uncertainty and pure child-like fear. Jason turned onto his uninjured side and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Pythagoras slowly stood and made his way towards Jason. He let out a small whimper and flinched suddenly, banging his head against the fallen tree that he'd earlier been resting on. Pythagoras was back on his knees in an instant, one hand on Jason's bare side and the other gently shaking him awake. It didn't take long before Jason was struggling to sit up, his mind still clearly in his nightmare...

... _the hands that he felt were strong and they dug into his flesh as if to rip him apart. One on his thigh, another around his neck and on more on his hip. He struggled to move, to escape his attackers but he was powerless beneath them. They tore his shirt from his body like it was made of paper and Jason watched as it was thrown at Pasiphae's feet. _

_Jason tried to move, to escape, to get home to his bed but the hands held him in place. One on his hip. One on his shoulder. He tried to call out for help, but his throat was dry. Desperately, he dug his fingernails into the hand that was gripping his hip and used all his strength to throw it away from him. Then he pulled back his fist and punched at the air, not expecting it to connect with the hard cheek of his attacker. But then a hand connected with his own cheek, and his head was knocked back and it hit the concrete..._

'J-Jason!'

His head struck the hard surface and he slowly started to open his eyes. He expectedto see the faces of the men that surrounded him, but the only face he saw was that of Pythagoras', bloody and afraid. Jason shuffled backwards, convinced that at any second Pasiphae would appear from the shadows and bring him back to the cell. A hand reached out towards him, and Jason visibly flinched and backed further away. Pythagoras held his hands up, apologetically.

'It-it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you.' Jason looked around the clearing, his mind slowly returning to him. His cheek stung and he lifted a hand to it.

'I'm sorry, I... I didn't know what else to do.' Pythagoras blushed and a look of guilt appeared in his eyes. Jason looked at him and frowned. Blood ran from Pythagoras' nose, staining his pale skin red.

'Did I do that?' Pythagoras nodded and Jason dropped his hands into his head.

'Jason, what happened?'

'I don't know,' He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out all thoughts of the past week. He tried to convince himself that the last few months he'd spent in Atlantis were all simply a dream, that he was really in London in his bed and that he'd be woken at 8am by his alarm clock as he always was. He wished it all to be a dream.


End file.
